It was his favorite song and he loved to “lead “it anytime he had the chance.  Granted, sometimes it was hard to tell exactly what the words were, because he was only two, but it wasn’t difficult to see the joy in his face or to hear it in his voice.

That precious voice was silenced in the early hours of Tuesday morning, March 3 ^rd .  Only through memories and the magic of technology will any of his family ever experience his boundless joy again.  But thanks to a request . . . a simple request sent out on Facebook by a family friend . . . and shared countless times, Sawyer Kimberlin’s legacy will live forever.

“Holy, Holy, Holy” . . . it was Sawyer’s favorite song.  The request?  To sing Sawyer’s Song during Sunday worship services, and to film it and post it on Facebook.  Friends planned to compile the videos and present them to the family as a gift from the world, given in their grief.  I don’t know what they expected, but the response was overwhelming.

All across our country—literally across the world—congregations came together, raising their voices in that beautiful melody.  Music directors and song leaders told the story of Sawyer and his family, of all those who died on that day, and as the music began and the cameras would slowly scan those in attendance, you could see parents pull their children a little closer.  Couples would reach for each other’s hands.  Grown men would struggle—and often fail—to maintain their composure while women gently wiped the tears from their eyes, never looking away from the one who was leading their efforts.

There were congregations of obvious wealth with great numbers and those who met in much smaller buildings with fewer members.  There were people from all walks of life, scattered across the globe, who took time to honor a child and his love of music and the Master.

As those who were so devastatingly affected by the storms of March 3 ^rd try to rebuild their lives, often without people they love, I’m sure there are many who wonder why this had to happen.  It speaks to the age old question—why do bad things happen to good people?  I’m one of those who wonders, and I will never in a million years attempt to provide a response.  But I do know this, a pure and innocent child who otherwise led a normal, probably unremarkable life, brought our divided world together through his death.  Maybe just for a few minutes, but for those few minutes, we sang Sawyer’s Song as one.

About the author:  Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926.  She has been employed at Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 40 years and currently serves as the manager there.  Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone, and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.

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